After the shenanigans that happened down in DC, we gathered at in our favorite bar drinkers in old city to tell the tales and to drink away any memories of what we seen.Trail was hared by under the gayder and just Mike.We set off and got lost straight away, and proceeded to run up and down market street for a few minutes until we found trail and set off over the market street. After some r*nning we got to the hawthorns park where we had our beer check. Some hashers spent the beer check trying to pick up a beer can off the ground without the use of their hands, most hadn’t much luck until beef jerkless showed them how it's done,We then headed on in back to drinkers for circle, this was the normal shit show that we know and love. After another great circle, which included Just Imoni drinking from her new shoes, it was finally time to name the one and only Just Dima.After going AWOL for a few months we could finally get to ask him the embarrassing questions we always wanted to know. We discovered that he lost his virginity after getting high, he likes to masterbate to goats, he has a guy crush on urine luck, and he cums from the magical place known as azerbaijan.After lots of names being tossed around and even more screaming while voting, we found a fitting name for this hasher. So we throw away that nerd name Just Dima and welcome Azz after Bong to the world. Congratulations Azz After Bong.Now I’m off to punish my liver some more, until next time.On-OnUncle Fister​

Bro, did you even hash this week? If you didn’t, here’s what you missed!

As a group, we collectively paused Fight Club, put down the weights, threw on our best muscle shirts, spiked up our hair, slammed our pre-workout, gave a quick double pits to chesty with our Axe, (because we ran out of Bod Man fragrance spray and you know they only sell that stuff around Christmas) and rolled deep in Finn McCool’s Ale House for some good ol’ quality Bro-ing out.

Trail was hared by our very own Alpha Bro, Beef Jerkless, with the help of Just Imoni and Just Amy. Between the three of them, not one single shirt was worn on trail. If that wasn’t sexy enough, they threw in a few spank checks, cause hey, good game bro! And lets not forget the song checks, because any excuse to fist pump! But r*unning, spanking and dancing is exhausting, and before long, we found ourselves dragging, unable to go on. But wait, what is this? Sweet nectar of the Gods… is that…? RIOT PUNCH!? Who needs a beer check when you have 5 gallons of everclear and energy drinks?! Re-fueled by alcohol, taurine, and trace amounts of animal steroids we proceeded to On-In, where we all realized how drunk we actually were when 7 Gag Reflexes walked into the bar. But being drunk is no excuse to skip the gym bro, so we decided to get some last minute curls in with the side-sides of Cause for Blindness and Broke in the Stink. Drunk, and rocking a fresh pump, we did the only thing left to do – POST CIRCLE DANCE PARTY!

*Resume Watching Fight Club

Some noteworthy accusations:-Tits of Steel for making the pizza delivery guy do a triple-take at her lacy panties during the underwear song.-MacGyver Muffdiver for showing up to circle dressed as Pharmabro/A used car salesman/An owner of a lounge in the outskirts of Las Vegas.-Just Emo Kid for saying the beeps at crosswalks are for deaf people.-Pantyphyle for not letting us use his yacht (WE KNOW YOU HAVE ONE!)

This week's hash turned out to be rather rainy, but that didn't stop an intrepid group of hashers (read: dumb hashers) from venturing out in into the wilds of Kensington to experience everything it had to offer. Our ragged bunch of hashers consisted of: Slothy, Goats, Fort Dix, Sex Toys, Wut Wut, J. Michael, J. Ryan and me (GML). Although it was raining and scary out we agreed to follow what we expected would be a convoluted ballbuster of a trail laid by Mr. 1980's Neon Glow Stick himself, Pantyphyle. He somehow convinced J. Dima to join him as co-hare and the two of them were off.

First things first, our RAs tried to perform chalk talk by going back and forth saying one word each in an attempt to make sense (and sentences). As you would imagine they failed terribly. But luckily we had no virgins, no one wanted to get dead and everybody left on trail having a basic semblance of what they were supposed to do. A quick word on the marks. J check, oh you fickle mistress, how you would come back to haunt us (read: me and then me again) on trail.

Despite the rain and rather small pack the marks were well laid (or shitty depending on your preference) and the pack flocked through the streets like the salmon of capistrano. Once we were sufficiently north of Fishtown and getting into the thicket of Port Richmond and Kensington we came upon our first J-check, but it wasn't really a J-check as much as two little airplane bottles of liquor with a big arrow pointing to them that said "shots." In one of my "did I do that" moments I ran one of the shots back to Wut Wut who was trailing at the moment and we enjoyed our shots them together. What actually happened is I asked Wut Wut which shot she would like and she picked the Tangerine Vodka leaving me with the delicious, nutritious, but really just vomit inducing liquor called Rumple Minze. Yummm.

Anywho, we made it to our first beer check under a secluded section of the I-95 overpass and were greeted by an awesome freight train. See the pictures if you'd like to learn more, but needless to say a glow stick dance party and many of our first experiences as a train drifter were made this night. Next up came us being lost, very lost. Huge spaces with rain and darkness make for poor trail following, but your hashflash eventually found the scent and off we were into the woods. Woods you say, where are those in Port Fishington? The answer, I have no idea, but we were by the water. Through the woods we went in almost total darkness but for the convenient glow stick accessories we had and those lighting the trail for us. We eventually made our way to graffiti pier from the north and had what seemed like a dozen shots each of spiked apple pie while staging another impromptu rave by the shores of the Delaware. When you thought trail couldn't possibly take any longer we made one more stop. This time though it wasn't beer we were after, but the mythical unicorn known as free Wawa coffee day. Add a little airplane bottle or two and you have a delicious pick-your-nationality coffee (I choose Mexican). Finally after hours and hours the pack headed back to Luke's Bar, but not before I once again managed to snag a J-check. Awesome.

When we got back we found some other hashers (Pretty Pretty Shitsburg, Ass-Ass and McGuber) who were willing to brave the rain and they joined the pack for circle. By my calculation it was about 2am by this point so I moseyed on home for the night. I'm sure circle was awesome, but a brothers got to work to pay that hash cash. Any other questions consult the photos.